


Landslide

by Mirimea



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Embarrassment, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Narcissism, Other, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4933405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirimea/pseuds/Mirimea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kevin helps out a friend and accidentally becomes internet famous. Written for a kink meme prompt, so the content is for mature audiences only.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Landslide

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for an old prompt at the now deactivated BoM kink_meme. I don’t know who posted it, but the prompt went like this:
> 
> "Elder Price, amazingly Mormon that he is, is asked to do some "modelling" and agrees, not realizing it's for porn-- but goes along with it anyway. Bonus points for a McPriceley or Pricingham confession somewhere in it."
> 
> I’ve struggled with it for a while in-between hiding my writing from my roommates and it’s turned into a bit of a mess, to be honest. But it feels like a waste to just keep it hidden on my hard drive. I’m sorry though, one of these days I’m going to write proper Price/McKinley smut. 
> 
> Trigger warning: personal pictures unwillingly spread online (here used as part of an exhibitionism kink).

When Jenna Whitaker, a photography major with an eyebrow piercing and whom Kevin knows only through their shared English Literature class in their first year, asks him if he would like to do some modeling for her, Kevin can't help but preen a bit and agree. Out of the goodness of his own heart, of course. And maybe vanity _is_ one of his vices, but really, who can blame him?

His smile stiffens when Jenna asks him, how comfortable is he with nudity?

It turns out, she is shooting a black and white series of nudes and semi-nudes, some more explicit than others. Not meant to be pornographic, she hurries to explain. It's about showing _humans_ as they are without social constructs and personal walls. She launches into a deeper explanation that Kevin doesn't even bother listening to because he knows nothing whatsoever about photography and he thinks his face might be feeling hotter than usual.

"Please?" Jenna finishes her tirade, looking, her brown eyes wide as she looks at him. “You’re exactly the type of guy I need to complete my portfolio.” She pauses, and when Kevin says nothing, she adds. “Handsome.”

Well, Kevin thinks. Out of the goodness of his heart.

* * *

 

It's not that he's a prude, Kevin thinks. Maybe his upbringing had been a bit less than daring, but that doesn't mean that he has been _completely_ sheltered. Yet he can’t seem to keep the butterflies away from his stomach while he rings on the doorbell to Jenna’s own off-campus apartment a couple of days later.

Jenna opens the door a moment later. "Hey, welcome."

"Thanks." Kevin looks around as he steps inside. It is a small one-room apartment with a kitchen area. At the moment, most of the furniture seems to have been pushed to one side of the room to make space for a variety of white screen and light equipment surrounding a simple dark wooded chair.

"Make yourself at home." Jenna follows him into the room and heads over to adjust the lights. Kevin shrugs out of his jacket and puts it on a hanger before following her into the room.

"I have some pictures from previous shots that you can look at." Jenna gestures towards her computer. "It's the folder that is open. You can see what I'm going for. But there are several explicit ones, just be warned."

Kevin nods and walks over, moving the mouse to activate the screen and clicking on the first picture in the folder.

They pictures are all in black and white and yes, some are definitely bringing a blush to his face. Many of the subjects are completely naked. Some people are hunched over. Some are stretched out and seemingly comfortable, other are almost contemplative. There are even picture of men and women that appear to be... well, _pleasuring_ themselves. He clicks past them quickly, even as he feels his eyes automatically move to certain areas and body parts. But even in those pictures, there is an interesting variety of personality, gender, age and ethnicities. Some people look almost uncomfortable, with a wrinkle between their eyebrows. Some look relaxed, almost blissful. Common for all of them are how their focus is completely and only on themselves. It is difficult to imagine that there had been a camera in the same room as them.

"Like what you see?"

Kevin jumps at Jenna's playful voice and moves the pointer to close the picture, but she is already at his elbow, leaning closer to look at the screen.  

"You see what I'm going for, right?" she says. He nods. "Of course, you'll only do what you're comfortable with," she continues. "And I won't use any picture in the student exhibition that you won't agree to, of course." She shrugs. "I'm ready when you are."

"Right." Kevin clears his throat, flexes his fingers that suddenly feel oddly stiff with nervousness. "Where should I...?"

Jenna gestures to a chair in the corner. "You can put your clothes there, if that's what you mean."

Thankfully the studio is warm, or otherwise Kevin might have felt even more trepidation about undressing. As it now is, he feels almost dazed because he can't really believe that he is doing this. He begins by removing his shoes and socks, then fumbles a bit with his wristwatch. He pulls his shirt over his head pretty easily, but his hands hover over his belt buckle for longer than he can play off as being momentarily distracted.

He keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him, imagines Jenna raising her eyebrows at him and feels his body heat up in a way that is, surprisingly, not altogether bad. He shakes _that_ thought out of his head and undoes his belt before he gives himself more time to think, stepping out of his pants less gracefully than he would like and leans down to pick them up and folding them neatly. His temple garments may still fully cover him, but he still feels more naked than he ever has before, a tickle beneath his skin reaching up his arms and legs and through his spine.

"That's some underwear."

Kevin looks up, startled by Jenna's voice. Her eyebrows _are_ raised the way he had imagined a moment ago, and she looks like she's not sure if she's allowed to laugh or not. After having non-religious roommates for the past few years, Kevin is familiar with that reaction.

"I'm LDS," he explains. When her confusion remains in her face, elaborates. "Mormon."  He may not hold the church in as much favor as he once did, but the religious community and message is still his. He has just... developed it a bit. Made it his own. Or Arnold had, he supposes. It’s a difficult community to break away from completely, either way, especially since his entire family has been Mormons since pretty much the beginning.  

If possible, Jenna’s eyebrows rise even higher, causing her forehead to wrinkle. "Seriously?"

Kevin shrugs and nods. "I was a missionary for two years. I went to Uganda."

"I thought the holy underwear thing was a myth!"

He glances down at his garments. Logically, he knows that other people find the tradition strange, but it is so ingrained in his body and mind, he can barely imagine not wearing them. A couple of years ago, when he had started to become more and more relaxed with some of the rules, others had remained. "I guess not."

Jenna bites her lip for a moment, thoughtful and possibly trying not to laugh, but when she speaks her voice is loud and fast and mostly meant for her own sake, Kevin thinks. "But this is perfect. Just what I want. Different bodies, different ethnicities, different religions..."

"Um." Shifts his weight to his other foot and scratches at his arm, trying not to seem as awkward as he feels. "Should I, continue?"

Jenna's eyes on his are so intense he feels his heart jump in his chest. "No, this is fine. Great."

"Okay." Kevin looks around the room, wondering about the mix of sheepishness and almost disappointment. He had been mentally preparing for… more.

"Sit down." Jenna points towards the chair placed in the white area of the room. "I'll set up the screens, then we'll try some poses.”

Kevin is an uptight subject, they soon learn. It is incredibly difficult for him to forget about the camera and he keeps trying to pose for it, keep control of what he’s showing… which incidentally is exactly the opposite of what Jenna is after. She has to remind him, time and time again, to look away. To relax. To get into his own zone and not hers, whatever that means.

"Oh my _God_ ," Jenna says after a while, exasperated. "Stop thinking about it. Just... recite your book of Mormon in your head or something."

Kevin frowns at her, but eventually tries to focus on whatever Disney lyric he can remember and eventually feels himself relax a bit. He pointedly tries to avoid looking anywhere at the camera, only sees Jenna's movements behind the camera out of the corner of his eye.

The more shots he hears her take, the more his confidence grows, can feel himself start to enjoy being the center of attention. It is like a sweet memory of how he used to feel when he was younger and had been so convinced that the world was, or would, truly revolve around him, and him alone. It is a pleasurable rush of heat through his body that makes him hold his chin up, stretch out a bit.

Kevin dares a glance at Jenna. Her tongue is peeking out of the corner of her eye in her concentration as she works with the camera.

He doesn't identify the tickle under his skin at first, but then his breath starts to feel hotter, too hot against his lips, almost like he has a fever. And then he realizes that the tickle and heat is finding a center towards his groin, like small electrical bursts. He shifts in his seat, all too aware that his garments won’t really cover _anything_. For a moment he is brought back in time, to puberty, to the battle to keep from doing anything… sinful. Back then, he had frowned upon any type of gratification.

Kevin can feel heat creep to his face; the camera suddenly feels invasive. He tilts his head back and tries to focus his eyes on the ceiling, but a million thoughts are flickering through his brain. An instinctive need for some sort of fight-or-flight response keeps him on the edge, but the ever growing titillation and pleasure keeps him glued to the spot.

"That's great." This time, Kevin doesn't look at Jenna as she speaks up. "Tell me if it gets too much, we’ll stop. But if you want to take care of...that, be my guest."

Kevin can sort of guess what she means, but he still forces his eyes away from the ceiling to give her a questioning look. Her eyebrows are raised as she makes a loose fist with her right hand and moves it up and down in a lewd gesture.

His face is burning as he forces his gaze back to the ceiling, tries to take as deep a breath as possible and runs a hand through his hair. The faint clicking from the camera is both intimidating and arousing.

Out of old habit, out of old doctrines that had been figuratively pounded into him as a child and teenager, Kevin still doesn't touch himself very often. The images he had seen earlier in Jenna’s folder flash through his mind and he can’t believe that he is actually considering following their example. Had they… planned to do it, or had they been like, well, like Kevin?

He squirms in his chair again, then reaches down with one hand to fondle himself through his underwear, his brain barely able to wrap around the fact that he is actually pleasuring himself in front of a camera. Soon he is fully hard, tenting his underwear lewdly, but Kevin is a bit preoccupied with how goodtickled _electrificed_ he feels to bother with embarrassment anymore. His hand slips beneath the waistband of his underwear before he can stop himself. He wraps his hand around his arousal, pumps his hand up and down a few times as he gets a feeling for what he wants and needs.

The sound of the camera penetrates through his desire. He glances quickly at Jenna again as he keeps his fist moving. She doesn't meet his eyes, at least not outside of the camera lens, but she's humming encouragingly while she works.

Kevin’s insides are tingling, every cell in his body feels like it is electrically charged. He tightens his grip and moves faster, spreading his legs. He presses the soles of his bare feet onto the wooden floor but it does nothing to center him. A very small, rational part of Kevin's mind is wondering what the hell he is doing and an old part of him is imagining hell fires; he tilts his head back again as if that would give him privacy, but mostly, he can't seem to focus on much else than the _lustwantneed_ to go further and further, to satisfy the itch in his entire body.

Kevin can feel his chest heave and for some reason he tries to grind against his hand one minute, then push himself away as his body arches and he is getting closer and closer to what he is seeking.

Kevin squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his feet onto the floorboards squarely as his body arches one last time. He pumps himself through his orgasm, knows that he is shooting his seed over his own underwear and shirt. His skin is buzzing pleasantly as he hunches over, trying to take a breath, to gather his thoughts and recover.

As his desire recedes, he is left only with his shattered inhibitions and an inescapable sense of shame; bizarrely, not over having just participated in what would probably classify as a pornographic photoshoot, but rather over his own physical reaction during his participation.

The sound of the camera, which had been present throughout his entire...well, performance, is now gone. Kevin presses his lips together and tries not to show how naked he is suddenly feeling, hesitating a bit before trying to wipe his cum off his shirt with his fingers. He only succeeds in smearing it; he makes a face.

"Here," Jenna says, pushing a box of Kleenex towards him. She stands up and turns her back on him, walking towards the kitchen area. Kevin thinks her cheeks might have been a bit pink. "I'll give you some privacy to get dressed."

Kevin nods to her back and does just that.

Once he is dressed, Jenna is all business. She will not show the pictures to anyone without him signing a consent form, which he will be given to him along with the pictures she might want to use. Kevin is a bit shell-shocked throughout it all, honestly, nods and smiles at what he thinks might be the right places.

A couple of weeks later, Jenna emails him a couple of pictures from the shoot that she is interested in using in her portfolio and student gallery showing. As expected, they’re black and white shots. There are some of the earlier ones, full figure, with Kevin stretched out and relaxed. The angle and shadows give him a sense of anonymity; his face appears sharper than it really is. Only people that really know him very well could probably tell that it is really Kevin.

Finally, there are two pictures from… later. Kevin stares at the pictures. They have been cut off at his waist, hiding anything too indecent, but from the way his hand is held, how his head is thrown back with an intense, pleased expression on his face, it’s not difficult to imagine what is really going on in the shots. He looks, well, he looks debauched. Does he really look like that, seriously?

Still, there is something of a thrill to sign the consent form. The student galleries aren’t well-visited, he knows, and no-one will probably recognize him, anyway.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

 

Kevin himself never does go to the gallery showing, and roughly three weeks after it closes for the semester he gets a text from Jenna. It is Thursday afternoon, and Kevin is sitting in his dorm room alone and working on a lab report, a cup of coffee on the table beside him. His eyes are getting bleary from staring at his computer screen, so he is glad for even the smallest of distractions as he picks up his phone.

_'sry. cameras were banned but can't ban cellphones'_

He looks at the message blankly for a moment and is ready to disregard it as being meant for someone else. Mostly to bring Jenna’s attention to this mistake, he responds.

_'What?'_

His phone vibrates again almost immediately. _'nevermind'_

Satisfied that his assumption had been correct, he returns to his report, scrolling up to find an earlier reference that he hadn't added to his automatic list. He's squinting at the document when his phone buzzes again, breaking his concentration. He glances at his phone, intending to ignore it when he notices that the message is from Arnold.

He picks up the phone and stares at the attached picture for a moment. It is followed by a series of exclamation marks and then at least ten question marks. 

It is a blurry cellphone photo of a screen capture, a bit tilted and mostly black and white. It is only when Kevin clicks on it and zooms in that he realizes what exactly it _is_ and feels the blood drain from his face.  

It is one of the pictures that had been cut off at his waist, and Kevin is not sure if it is better or worse than if it had been one of the full-body pictures.

Suddenly, Jenna's earlier message makes a horrifying lot of sense. At the top of the picture someone, who must have recognized his garments for what they are, has written in big letters, "Oh heavenly father." From the screen capture, Kevin recognizes it as being uploaded to one of the social media sites that he knows Arnold frequents.

He texts back to Arnold, '!!!!?'

* * *

 

As it turns out, Arnold tells him, a few of Kevin's pictures had sort of...spread, online. Thankfully, since Jenna had only used censored photos in her exhibition, none of them are completely explicit, but, Kevin thinks, this is _enough_. Thankfully, since Jenna had worked so much with shades and contrasts, his face really isn’t that recognizable, and if Kevin's faith in God hadn't already been shaky, he might have thanked God for small favors.

"You're my best friend and all but oh my gosh?" Arnold screeches into the phone, much too loud and obviously embarrassed on Kevin's behalf.

Kevin stares at the wall of his dorm room dully and doesn't reply. From the research he's done so far, the picture isn't _that_ widespread, but it's already being used as an excuse to mock religion overall and Mormonism in particular. If Arnold had once been considered a disgrace to the LDS church, Kevin has somehow managed to become an even bigger one.

He's not really worried about his church or his parents finding out though. Possibly his siblings, but unless his parents have suddenly become much more gratuitous about internet privileges, even that is a bit unlikely.

He opens up the picture on his laptop again, tilts his head and looks at it.

He does look pretty good, he thinks with satisfaction. He can understand all the comments that are appearing beneath the post. A lot of it is about religion, but Kevin absorbs the occasional admiration like a sponge. All things considered, he thinks he has the right to.

"Hello?" Arnold's voice into his ear, still too loud, startles him out of his thoughts. He realizes that his free hand had started to find its way to his groin and he snatches it away, face heating up.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"You alright?" A note of concern has entered Arnold's voice now.

"Sure, I'm fine," Kevin says quickly. "I mean, I'm not even that recognizable, right?"

"And it's a pretty good picture," Arnold adds helpfully, then quickly. "Like, artsy and stuff, I mean!"

"Right," Kevin says, still blushing.

A couple of nights later, Kevin wakes up to a new text message. He squints at it through the darkness and realizes that it is from Elder McKinley, his former district leader whom Kevin hadn’t had much contact with lately, except during the occasional reunion.

It says simply, ‘whoa’ and then, ‘welcome out’, followed by a smiley face.

Kevin looks at it for a while, confused, then turns the screen off again and goes back to sleep.

* * *

 

Over the course of the week, Kevin tries to understand is feelings regarding the whole thing. A part of him is mortified, of course, but there is another part that cancels out the worst of it. It is a strange sense of something akin to glee. The same kind of feeling that he had felt a couple of years ago, in Uganda, the first time he had said “fuck you” to the church. This is like, “fuck you” part two.

And like Kevin had already established.... he does look _good_. So good, in fact, that Kevin has mentally revisited the experience of the photoshoot in his mind several times already.

Jenna is somewhere between delighted and absolutely pissed.

"They've stolen my copyrighted property and are making money of it," she complains to him when they meet up for lunch one day to discuss the events. "But on the other hand, the shots _are_ pretty damn great."

Kevin nods in agreement, then pauses mid-bite. "Wait. Making money...?"

Jenna makes an expression similar to that of a deer in headlights. "I guess you haven't seen that part yet?"

She pulls up a site on her phone, heavy with ads and it takes a while to load, but when it does Kevin feels his face go scarlet, forgetting for a moment that he actually does swear nowadays. "Ohmy _gosh_."

The photos on this site are definitely not something one could consider _artistic_. Kevin stares in fascination at the pictures of men, many clad in white button-down shirts and ties, or very familiar underwear... or nothing at all. "Is this gay porn?" he says, his voice a pitch higher than usual. "Wait, _Mormon_ gay porn?"

Wordlessly, Jenna swipes her finger across the screen to scroll down, and then Kevin sees some very familiar images. Not as raunchy as many other pictures on the site, but they don't look completely out of place. The previously shaky cellphone pictures has been edited to look better, but other than that they are definitely part of the same photo shoot.

"Sorry," Jenna says finally. "I mean, I guess we can sue, but I don't think anything will come from it."

Kevin wonders if there are gay men jerking off to, well, to _him_ right in this moment and feels a familiar tingle with its center in his groin. He squirms, shakes his head. "What? Eh, no."

This at least explains the cryptic message he had received from Elder McKinley. Kevin hadn't known what to respond to it and still had the message stored on his phone.

He sneaks a final glance at the website before averting his eyes.

* * *

 

When Kevin gets back to his dorm, his roommate is thankfully not there. He hesitates for just a moment, then boots up his laptop, pulls up an incognito tab and types in some search terms that would certainly have made his parents ground him for _years_ if he had still lived at home.

He finds the website from earlier pretty easily; he is momentarily worried about all the spyware he might be exposing his computer to, then the pictures load and he becomes...distracted.

At first he scrolls down to his own pictures, considers them for a while. He wonders again about people...pleasuring themselves to Kevin. Then a thought enters his head and he wonders if _Elder McKinley_ had. He feels his entire body heat up.

He shifts in the chair, then unbuttons his pants to slip a hand down his underwear, fondling himself while he considers the idea. He scrolls down, almost lazily glancing at the pictures, can almost imagine himself in several of the depicted scenarios.

He has officially hit rock bottom, he thinks. And Kevin doesn’t even feel bad about it.

He's barely aware of how his hand speeds up, but then he comes across a series of pictures of a man that is bent over at the waist, his underwear pushed down. Another man, completely naked, is leaning over him, running one hand up under the other man's undershirt.

Something in Kevin's brain seems to short-circuit and his own orgasm surprises him. He strokes himself through it, dazed and flushed and a little pissed at himself for soiling his underwear again. As the pleasure abates a slight sense of shame comes over him, but then he glances at his computer screen again and it’s difficult to feel disgusted with himself when he feels so _good_.

He spends the night, and the entire next day considering this turn of events. The next evening, when his roommate has fallen asleep and Kevin has crept under the covers as well, he takes his cellphone and opens the message he had received from McKinley a couple of days earlier, stares at it for a while.

Rolling over on his stomach and elbows, he types a simple 'thanks', and hits send.


End file.
